Chapter Text
"I'm going to get evicted."
Lando's eyes bug out of his head.
"Mate, what?!"
"One of my scholarships stopped existing, and now I have two thousand pounds in tuition to pay." Oscar leans against the counter, sighing. "So all my money is going there."
"Did you talk to the financial office?"
"Yep. They can only help me next semester."
"Fuck," Lando breathes. Oscar shrugs. "I'd offer you my couch, but Martin is already sleeping on my couch. You can't take a semester off?"
"Then I lose all my other scholarships, and then I lose college, and then I work here for the rest of my life." Lando is quiet for a few moments. "I'm never going to find another apartment for this low of a price with such a good location, too," he sighs. "It's fine, I'm sure I'll find someone else who has a spot I can stay for a few weeks. Maybe Danny?"
"I mean… I have an alternative solution," Lando offers, his voice sly. "But it's a little out there."
"I'm not selling my organs." Lando shakes his head quickly.
"No, no," he insists. "It's not that."
Oscar raises his eyebrows, somehow still doubtful. Lando makes a little face, like he knows Oscar is about to make fun of him for his next couple of statements.
"I found this app called Prestige," he starts. Oscar purses his lips. "Basically, it's like a cross between OnlyFans and a hookup app, but for like millionaires. But these guys will pay like anything for a hot chick. So I made a fake profile as a woman, and used a face-changing app to make myself look like a girl in the photos."
"Oh my god," Oscar mutters, rolling his eyes.
"No, no, listen, I made five hundred pounds last night, by sending a guy a picture of my thigh knee—"
"Your what?"
Lando lifts his leg, pressing the back of his shin to his thigh and pointing at the line between them.
"I told him it was my cleavage."
"There's no way," Oscar says.
"It's true!" Lando starts pulling up his bank account on his phone and points to the new inflow of five hundred pounds. "You don't have to like meet up with them or anything, you just have to get creative and move on when they start figuring it out. I've even done a few phone calls, and I just talk like this." He makes his voice intentionally higher. Oscar gives him a flat expression.
"There's no way they believe you're a girl, mate," he asserts. Lando shrugs.
"Either way, they still pay."
»»»
Oscar wasn't going to do it. When Lando first explains the concept to him, he takes a moral stance against it—millionaires are people, too.
When he makes it home, Oscar is a bit closer to testing out Lando's idea, but he tells himself there's probably something illegal about it, and pushes it out of his head to study for four hours.
It's when he's lying in bed, staring up at the dark ceiling and thinking about how much he's going to miss this apartment that he starts justifying it. They're millionaires, it's like stealing from the rich and giving to the poor. Five hundred pounds is hardly a dent in a millionaire's pocket. Lando made it sound really easy, and the money was real.
He can always just delete the app if he feels uncomfortable.
That's what has him turning on the lights at two in the morning to take a picture of his driver's license and edit long hair onto it. He takes a few of his other photos: one of him on a hike Danny forced him to go on, one of him at a beach in Perth with his family, and two of him with some of his girl friends.
At first, he looks at the images and wonders if in any universe he would pass for a girl, laughing at the obscure makeup and the long hair they've pasted onto his head. Then he gets to thinking about it. If he were a millionaire soliciting nudes on some random app, he probably would scroll past if he thought something was fake as opposed to arguing it. He's pretty sure he can convince at least one non-tech-savvy person that he's a woman.
The longer he looks at the photos, the more he convinces himself that it really is another woman, not him with a few filters on.
Oscar huffs and puts his phone back on the nightstand, shutting off the light. The app has a verification wait, so he has plenty of time to come to his senses, remember this is a terrible idea, and delete it.
In the morning, Oscar has already forgotten all about it.
»»»
"Rebecca" is a blue-eyed, curly-haired, twenty-one-year-old, third-year electrical engineering student at Oxford University.
She likes house music, spy thrillers, and going out with her friends. She doesn't mind pet names and likes compliments. But she never—not ever—sends for free.
Oscar is nervous at first, and then he makes three hundred pounds sending a seventy-year-old a picture of his big toe, and he is officially convinced.
The man says that it's delicate. Oscar doesn't quite know the criteria for toe description, but since he's not actually supposed to have feminine feet, he thinks he should probably be offended.
He sends a screenshot of the payment to Lando, who responds only with: I TOLD YOU!!!!
For the first week, "Rebecca" feels a bit like a chore.
A man named Dan pays him ten pounds every time Oscar tells him what color socks he is wearing. He asks Oscar for an update at least a couple of times an hour.
He receives at least twenty unsolicited photos of various frightening appendages, of all ages and sizes. He gains some new hidden empathy and respect for all the women in his life who have to put up with things like that.
A fifty-five-year-old tries to pay him two hundred pounds for his used underwear. Oscar considers that proposition for about an hour and then decides he's got no good way of faking it, and this seems like the type of man to expect some sort of smell.
He takes photos of his shoulder, his stomach, and a few more toes, and normally, he can convince the men that they're looking at something a lot more sexually appealing.
"Rebecca" is careful.
She doesn't overshare, she doesn't stay for longer than she has to. She responds politely, with interest but not with urgency. Like she knows her worth.
The men like it when she is busy, when she tells them she has a lab to get to, so she can't send anything until later, or that she has an assignment due midnight that needs her attention. It makes them feel like they're a part of a life that actually exists, Oscar's life.
Because all parts of "Rebecca"—apart from her looks—are inherently Oscar.
Her complaints about professors, all Oscar. Jokes about living on energy drinks and noodles, Oscar. Her likes and dislikes, Oscar. Her cooler, mature, demeanor, Oscar. Even her confidence, her restraint, never asking or chasing, just expecting what she deserves, is a bit of Oscar's pride repurposed.
The men want to impress "Rebecca". Oscar finds it a bit odd, but he gets used to it quickly. He learns how to sound warm and inviting without promising too much, how to deflect without rejecting, how to disappear for long enough to be missed, and to get another tip. He learns how to sound seductive, sexy, that's when "Rebecca" starts to separate from him, when she starts to become a character he is learning how to play—a skin he doesn't love to fit into. Most of them don't stick around for more than a few days.
Two weeks have passed, and Oscar has almost made enough to cover the lost scholarship, when "Rebecca" meets Carlos.
chili81
Hello Rebecca
I hope you're having a good evening
Polite, but typical opening.
becca55
hi
it's been alright. longer day. what about you?
chili81
Busy, always busy but a bit quieter than usual
Oscar is sitting up against his pillow, fighting off a yawn.
becca55
quiet days are underrated
you looking for something to make yours better?
Carlos types for a bit, then stops and types again.
chili81
I don't think a photo will fix the day I had.
What made your day long?
He wants some conversation first, which means he's probably not married. Oscar has found that those with rings like to jump straight to business.
becca55
i had a lab early in the morning and then i worked a double
nothing very exciting
There is a bit of a pause, and Oscar wonders if he should've asked Carlos about his day as well. He takes the opportunity to scroll through Carlos's profile.
It doesn't have much information about him, but it does have a few photos. Him, in various places, most of the time with sunglasses on, which makes it difficult to get a full picture of his face. Unlike most of the other profiles Oscar has seen, he looks a healthy bit younger than fifty, and he doesn't appear to be trying to show off his body in any way.
chili81
What do you do for work?
becca55
coffee shop
chili81
That sounds interesting
Oscar rolls his eyes.
becca55
making coffee for eight hours?
chili81
I don't know!
I've never done any job besides the one I'm doing now
Oscar waits a few seconds, questioning the direction of this conversation, and then Carlos sends another message.
chili81
Sorry, I'm bad at this
becca55
relax i'm messing with you
look, i'm pretty tired, so if you wanted something specific
chili81
I was just hoping to talk
Oscar blinks a few times. This guy doesn't seem horny. He just seems exhausted with his life. It's strangely familiar to Oscar.
becca55
okay, i can talk
Oscar thinks for a few seconds.
becca55
what do you do for work?
There is a long pause. Oscar thinks that Carlos is trying to decide how vague he should be.
chili81
I drive
Oscar blinks.
becca55
like uber?
chili81
Something like that
becca55
sounds sorta boring
chili81
It's very far from boring
becca55
i'll take your word for it
chili81
I am more interested to hear about your job though
It seems very normal
Oscar shifts against the pillow, gnawing on the inside of his mouth. Normal. That's definitely one way to describe it, monotonous, maybe. Necessary. Oscar would much rather be a millionaire searching for normality than be broke enough to have to remind Dan about his blue socks for the seventh time today.
becca55
more normal than driving?
chili81
More normal than the way I drive
becca55
well… normal isn't everything it's cracked up to be
chili81
What do you mean?
Oscar scrunches his nose. Some of the men on here are lying about being millionaires, but this guy definitely isn't. Oscar doesn't think he's met someone so out of touch in a while. He weighs risk over profit, and figures the guy hasn't asked him for anything yet, and has barely taken up ten minutes of his time, so he might as well risk losing a customer. With another week of earnings like these, he can probably delete his profile anyway.
becca55
i'm here, aren't i?
selling pictures of my big toe to seventy-year-old men
chili81
Somebody asked for that?
becca55
trust me that's tame for what i've been asked
chili81
How much did they pay for that?
Oscar raises his eyebrows.
becca55
wouldn't you like to know
chili81
Well, I'm sure you have a great big toe, but I can assure you I won't be asking to see it
Oscar lets out a snort.
becca55
that brings me a lot of comfort
thank you, carlos
Carlos doesn't say anything for a bit, but then he's typing again, and Oscar waits patiently.
chili81
Can I ask you something?
Oscar holds his breath. Here it comes: this man's strange fantasy that Oscar is going to have to fulfill.
becca55
sure
chili81
Are you always like this?
Oscar blinks.
becca55
like what?
chili81
Dry
becca55
rude
chili81
No, no, I am meaning
Sarcastic
Honest
And Oscar realizes that "Rebecca" isn't always like this. Normally, she's playful and seductive; she's entirely composed. She teases a bit, but Oscar would never describe her as sarcastic, never as honest. He must be extra tired.
becca55
oh so you think you're special?
chili81
Maybe
becca55
what's the answer you'd like to hear?
chili81
Isn't it your job to know that?
becca55
touche
There's a brief pause, then the typing bubble appears, stops, and then appears again. Oscar's lips curl up in amused anticipation.
chili81
So what is your favorite drink to make at this coffee shop?
Oscar explains to Carlos that it's anything uncomplicated. Sometimes he gets orders for items that are so modified they don't even look remotely similar to the base drink.
They text back and forth for a while.
Oscar admits that he doesn't even like coffee, and Carlos seems genuinely offended by that. The smile works its way onto his face at that.
Carlos hears some of Oscar's horror stories at the cafe, and Oscar learns about two of Carlos's coworkers who pushed him to download Prestige. They sound insane, and Oscar finds himself able to understand why Carlos is looking for a regular conversation.
He tells Oscar that he travels most of the year for work and entertains Oscar's questions about the things he's seen.
Carlos asks Oscar about school, which classes he likes, and what he thinks of his studies so far. He gushes for a bit about how Oscar must be so smart to be studying something so difficult, and how he could barely get through his required schooling.
Then Carlos has to explain to Oscar that he has a specific talent that his job is based around, so he never really needed school. Oscar calls him out for nepotism a few times, and Carlos sheepishly agrees.
Carlos is honest. He doesn't ask for anything. He is just curious, probing Oscar with little questions about his life, happily responding when Oscar probes back. He seems to genuinely just enjoy their conversation.
The conversation is so easy that for a second, Oscar forgets he's "Rebecca".
chili81
Shit I should let you sleep
Oscar glances at the time on his phone. It's three in the morning. He's been grinning at his phone like an idiot in the dark for four hours. And he has an eight-thirty class with mandatory attendance. He huffs, running his hand over his face.
chili81
I forgot about the time difference
becca55
my alarm is going to be brutal
chili81
Do you have class in the morning?
becca55
at 8:30 AM
chili81
I'm sorry
Oscar swallows. He thinks Carlos actually means it.
becca55
i could've told you but i didn't
He types something out, and then deletes it, and types it again.
becca55
i liked talking to you
It takes Carlos a few seconds to figure out what to do with that.
chili81
You tell all your clients that?
Oscar lets out a little laugh.
becca55
for me to know and for you to find out
chili81
Well, I won't keep you any longer
Thank you for your time, sorry for taking up so much of it
Oscar takes a breath.
becca55
carlos
i enjoyed this
really
chili81
I did too
For the first time in a while, I felt just like a person
For a few long seconds, Oscar feels bad for him.
chili81
Instead of like
becca55
like a millionaire?
Carlos doesn't address it.
chili81
Sleep well, Rebecca
Rebecca had faded to the background of his mind, and being reminded of her is a bit shocking, being reminded that this entire time, Carlos was under the impression he was talking to her, not Oscar. He pushes it deep down.
becca55
goodnight, carlos
Oscar turns his phone off, sets it on his chest face down, and stares up at the ceiling. The man didn't even ask for anything, just a conversation. He imagines what he's going to say to Lando about this one. He decides it's probably best for him not to message Carlos again.
Then his phone buzzes again.
Oscar is expecting another message, but it's a notification.
"Oh my god," Oscar breathes. It's from Wise. Another notification pops up at the top of his screen.
chili81
For your company
Twelve hundred pounds.
Oscar blinks at the screen for a few seconds, disbelieving. It's the rest of his tuition and his rent for the month, for a four-hour enjoyable conversation.
He almost gets to typing a gushing message of gratitude, and then he remembers that Rebecca probably wouldn't. She knows her worth.
He leaves it without response for now, his heart pounding, as he puts his phone on the nightstand and gazes back up at the ceiling.
He knows he should definitely delete the app now. He doesn't need it any longer. But if all it took was a good conversation to make more than his rent, it can't hurt to have a few more. Money that Carlos doesn't need, that he seems willing and happy to throw Oscar's way without much of a question.
Oscar scrunches his nose, remembering Carlos's words about feeling like a person.
Somewhere out there, Carlos is going to sleep a little less lonely because of a girl who doesn't exist.
He reaches back for his phone, grabbing it off the nightstand and opening the app so fast it lags. He hits the tab to manage his account, finger hovering over the red 'delete' button. And then he stops, goes back to their chat, scrolls through the messages—at the "touche", at the jokes about coffee customers. He even told Carlos about Dan.
Then, he closes his phone, places it back on the nightstand, and forces his eyes shut. He tells himself he's just keeping it until the money clears. He tries not to think about how much he wants to message Carlos after his shift tomorrow.
He'll figure this out in the morning.